There's always a place to go, and a way to get there...
I thought I’d try to pluck one small thing from my past year to share. What came to mind is a little shift that happened in my taste for stories that might reflect a cultural shift. For most I’ve my life I’ve gravitated toward hero stories, which I recognized in my twenties when I read […]
I thought I’d try to pluck one small thing from my past year to share. What came to mind is a little shift that happened in my taste for stories that might reflect a cultural shift. For most I’ve my life I’ve gravitated toward hero stories, which I recognized in my twenties when I read Joseph Campbell’s The Hero With a Thousand Faces. This book formed the foundation of my understanding of story, one that I tended to apply to all stories in a “more is better” kind of way. This year I’ve noticed a tendency to gravitate away from grandiose hero stories and toward a kind of story where the hero’s journey is so small or de-emphasized that it becomes almost undetectable. As with so many developments in my life, Ann led me to this one. It started with fireplaces and trains, which came to us via the large television (our first) that we inherited from my dad. We were determined not to let the TV inject too much degrading mainstream slop into our lives. Ann applied herself to finding things to put on the TV that felt good. Almost as a joke she starting playing videos of fireplaces. The TV is mounted above our fake electric fireplace, which sits in front of the real fireplace we never use. Surprisingly these videos fit nicely into our lives and we found endless varieties on YouTube to choose from. I didn’t think of them as stories at first, perhaps because they didn’t fit my learned hero framework. But now I see them as very open, flexible stories that we can incorporate into our lives in much the same way as any story. At first, though, I just experienced them as a new and refreshing kind of TV. Next came trains. Ann has always been attracted to trains, so why not invite them onto the TV? Producers like Rail Cowgirl started to get almost as much screen time as fires, simply turning the TV into a train driver’s view. This expanded eventually to include minimalist train travel videos. These have a sort of protagonist, but we prefer the kind with no dialog or grand narrative other than navigating between cars, eating meals, and demonstrating every minute feature available on the conveyance with some occasionally humorous textual commentary. You might cram this into the hero framework, but in a refreshingly humble way. It wasn’t until 2024 that I became aware that my idea of what a story is had changed, and that I had started looking for and appreciating this new kind of story. It feels like an antidote to the onslaught of extreme super-hero stories. We found that the no-dialog approach has also been adopted by hikers and probably many other storytellers. In a different medium I found that I appreciate hiking blogs that focus more on description and less on narrative. An email newsletter from a relative describes a morning of running errands in detail, and I’m enraptured. Even books like The Quickening by Elizabeth Rush that describe something adventurous like journeying to Antarctica on a science expedition resist many facets of the hero framework, and that captured my interest. I think if my younger self read this little essay he might conclude that my taste has retreated into the humdrum, rebelling by seeking out the most boring content imaginable. It is possible that as I age I gain patience for less overtly stimulating material. I can only protest that I experience a richness in these stories that the hero framework doesn’t seem to recognize, a beauty it distracts us from. I haven’t abandoned the hero’s journey. It still applies to plenty of my media diet. I just wanted to share this tidbit: there is more.
We’ve knowingly consented to the use of disinformation to gain power. I’ve been bewildered by this since the 2016 election. Being a technologist by trade I pondered ways to use technology to counter disinformation, but my thinking has changed. I now believe we are vulnerable to disinformation because we are in pain, and the best […]
We’ve knowingly consented to the use of disinformation to gain power. I’ve been bewildered by this since the 2016 election. Being a technologist by trade I pondered ways to use technology to counter disinformation, but my thinking has changed. I now believe we are vulnerable to disinformation because we are in pain, and the best way to counter it is not with facts and evidence, but by first attempting to understand the pain behind it. As a nation we’ve been wounded and traumatized somehow, and I suspect technology has contributed to this. I hope I can better counter the disinformation we’ve embraced by recognizing the pain of those who carry it and trying to understand it. Maybe there are still ways tech can help us heal, but I think it has to start with compassion for one another, especially those we disagree with. If we can learn to help each other heal, I think we’ll slowly lose our taste for lies and propaganda. I’m still bewildered, but it’s a wilderness I can move in. I hope sharing it helps you keep moving too.
This year was stressful in ways that I’d rather not share. Rest assured the reasons are personal and mundane, and not life-threatening. At the risk of promoting an over-idealized internet version of my life, I thought I’d just share some nice things that stood out or helped me in 2023. These are for your enjoyment, […]
This year was stressful in ways that I’d rather not share. Rest assured the reasons are personal and mundane, and not life-threatening. At the risk of promoting an over-idealized internet version of my life, I thought I’d just share some nice things that stood out or helped me in 2023. These are for your enjoyment, but are not an attempt to represent what my life is like overall. Maybe I’ll put this disclaimer on every post from now on! Books come to mind first. The Body Keeps the Score by Bessel A. Van Der Kolk had a huge impact on me. So many humans have experienced trauma that having little or no understanding of it creates a huge blind spot, especially with those humans you love. This book made me think a basic course in trauma should be a public education requirement. It can add a dimension of compassion to almost any human interaction, and for the really meaningful interactions it can be a game changer. Another big one was Breath by James Nestor. We breathe all day every day. Could more insight into that bodily function be a boon to our overall experience of life? It has been for me. I still share photos on Flickr and embrace the internet old fart identity this conveys. Of course our cat Maddy is the most photogenic member of the family. Attempted dirt bath on the Black Rock playa I’m very grateful my good health allowed me to continue an active life this year. Strava has become my most active social network. One highlight from the year was a week of splitboarding in the Utah Wasatch with my ski buddies Aaron and Orri. An important part of my outdoor life has been volunteering with Adventure Scientists. Ann and I managed to collect more cone surveys than any other team this year for their reforestation project. I learned a lot about how conifers reproduce, and also how difficult it is to get good photos of this subject. Since you’re now burning with curiosity, here is a nice crop of incense cedar cones, which look like green pistachios. What else? I continue to enjoy journalism from High Country News, like this story on the unfolding fate of Glen canyon and Lake Powell on the dwindling Colorado river. I also like mining for interesting music on Bandcamp, where I find artists like Thad Kopec who buck the mainstream. Okay, there are a few good things from the year. These little things may not be sufficient to prevent the USA from becoming a dictatorship in 2024, but you never know. I’m not looking forward to that aspect of the year ahead, but I’m bracing to do my part.
It’s been a transformative year for me. I feel like a different person in many ways. There were a lot of challenges and I hope to share some of the things that helped me get through them. It was my last year with my father Daniel, much different from any other. At the end of […]
It’s been a transformative year for me. I feel like a different person in many ways. There were a lot of challenges and I hope to share some of the things that helped me get through them. It was my last year with my father Daniel, much different from any other. At the end of May I went to Phoenix where we packed up a rental trailer and moved Dad to a room in Park Place, an assisted living home near me in Reno. With over a dozen medications to manage, the mobility limitations of advanced Parkinson’s disease, and unpredictable bathroom needs, we were ready for a challenge. Over the Memorial Day weekend we made our way between busy restaurants and restrooms, keeping the meds on schedule and avoiding any serious mishaps. My appreciation for the work Jan, his caregiver in Phoenix, had been doing full time for six months grew with my own experience. Dad was understandably anxious about such a big change but always managed it with grace when it counted. We arrived on time in Reno where Ann had managed to make his small, mostly empty room feel welcoming with a cozily made bed and flowers on the window sill. The months that followed were some of the closest I’ve had with my dad, in a relationship reversed in many aspects from the one we’d developed as mostly independent adults. As he came to depend on me for more things my role became parental in some ways, something neither of us were accustomed to. Our deep trust in each other was tested regularly, but it held. One thing I recognize clearly looking back is that my dad had some resources in place that made his care possible. Without these, many of the challenges would have been impossible instead of just difficult. Reflecting the state of our health care system, the big ones involved insurance. As a former United States Postal Service employee his primary health insurance was Medicare (Hospital/Part A and Medical/Part B). That was the first line of defense and the easiest to manage because providers all have it dialed in. It also paid for hospice care, which Dad started in December of 2021. Next he had supplemental health insurance from BlueCross BlueShield’s federal employee program. It often took some back and forth with providers to get them to submit to that plan correctly, but it usually worked. In addition to those he had an independent long-term care policy (Ameriprise Riversource). This was the most time intensive policy to manage with lots of phone calls and various submissions required, but it greatly expanded my dad’s options for in-home care and assisted living. I learned more about managing these policies than I ever cared to know. In cases where all the insurance fell short, my dad’s income from his retirement annuity and rental properties was more than sufficient to fill in the gaps. It haunts me to think of all the families facing situations like my dad’s without these resources. There are so many, and the number grows. The number of problems to be solved and decisions to be made was staggering. It makes choosing what to share, what was most helpful, a little difficult. An over-arching theme was that there was almost never a clear, correct choice discoverable through diligent research. An example is finding in-home care. The most qualified providers can also be the most rigid and inflexible, not to mention expensive. Smaller or independent providers can be a crap shoot. Provider personality fit is also a giant factor that is nearly impossible to research. We ended up getting lucky with a provider from Seniors Helping Seniors who became a close family friend. Ideally you’d like to find and hire the right person directly, but the process of finding candidates is daunting. You look for a compromise that usually means everyone involved gives a little. Having friends and family with similar experience to consult has been invaluable. Our friend Sally in Reno had been through some similar trials with her husband Tom, who suffered from early-onset Alzheimer’s disease. Her choices for hospice and assisted living turned out to work for my dad as well. I still did some additional research, but her experience gave me a better idea of what to expect than anything else could have. I’m grateful that the signs of dementia my dad exhibited didn’t obliterate his sense of self or his ability to express his preferences. He did get confused, had some short-term memory loss, and toward the end had hallucinations he couldn’t always distinguish from reality, but he always knew me and was pretty clear about what he wanted. I made sure to discuss with him early on that if I ever had to make decisions for him I would rely on his written wishes in his living will, our prior conversations, and my best efforts at empathy beyond that. We reviewed that plan periodically, but I’ll admit my relief at not having to fully enact it. His expressed preferences about his care were often repetitive or anxious, but they were consistent and not alarmingly erratic or delusional. When the pain of his deteriorating body passed his own tolerance, he requested the morphine that eased his final days. My heart aches for anyone who must make this decision for a loved one. The strength required to do it must take a terrible toll. One decision my dad struggled with was his desire to contribute to science by donating his body after his death. When we reviewed the local medical body donation program through the University of Nevada Reno he hesitated at the condition that no remains would be given to the family, and we never completed an application to that or any other program. When he died his body was too emaciated to be useful for research, and his wife Sarah took great comfort in the time she was able to spend with his body. At that point I was thankful his body was not whisked away by a program that couldn’t make use of it, though I still admire his desire to contribute to research. I didn’t organize a memorial service for my dad, apologies if you were looking for one. I am more than willing to remember him with you, but his friends and family are so scattered over the earth that I couldn’t envision how to do it all together. What I did instead was create a website in memory of Daniel where I will share memories and accept submissions. Perhaps we’ll record some in-person remembrances there. Obviously this was a big part of my year and there were many more aspects of it that I’m willing to share, but there are some other topics I have something to offer on. Ann and I reconnected with Vanessa Belz, a friend who enhanced our year in many ways. An early and significant one was introducing us to the nearby Fort Sage Off-Highway Vehicle area, which turns out to be fantastic for camping, bouldering, hiking, and running. It’s only an hour away, our cat Maddy loves it, and we’ve gone back there repeatedly all year long. Around my 50th birthday this year Ann introduced me to the Wim Hof Method, though she may now wish she hadn’t. I credit it with helping me get through a tough year. For me it boils down to lots of conscious breathing and a daily dip in the Truckee river. After that I feel replenished and able to face the day, sometimes even with some love and openness to spare. For those around me it can be weird and annoying, and I’m eternally grateful to Ann for her tolerance of my new rituals. She even encouraged to me to take a class that finished with a 3-minute ice bath. <img loading="lazy" decoding="async" width="819" height="1024" src="https://www.cyberhobo.net/wp-content/uploads/2023/01/312329862_507076551300651_9221587357763570123_n-819x1024.jpeg" alt="" class="wp-image-15641" srcset="https://www.cyberhobo.net/wp-content/uploads/2023/01/312329862_507076551300651_9221587357763570123_n-819x1024.jpeg 819w, https://www.cyberhobo.net/wp-content/uploads/2023/01/312329862_507076551300651_9221587357763570123_n-500x625.jpeg 500w, https://www.cyberhobo.net/wp-content/uploads/2023/01/312329862_507076551300651_9221587357763570123_n-768x960.jpeg 768w, https://www.cyberhobo.net/wp-content/uploads/2023/01/312329862_507076551300651_9221587357763570123_n.jpeg 1080w" sizes="auto, (max-width: 819px) 100vw, 819px" /> Ann and I continue to volunteer with the Adventure Scientists Wild and Scenic River project. This year we did the first survey of the West Little Owyhee river in southeastern Oregon, and Ann did a solo trip to get the first grab samples from Cottonwood creek in the White mountains of California. These trips are great outdoor experiences that also provide data to researches and land managers grappling with climate change and other environmental issues. The remote Anderson Crossing of the West Little Owyhee river In my reading life I continued my Octavia Butler kick and have now read many of her books. The Parable of the Sower and its sequel The Parable of the Talents especially made an impression, feeling like a history of a parallel universe. On the non-fiction front Ann’s recommendation of The Long Trek Home by Erin McKittrick was both a great read and a marker of how wilderness treks are changing. I continue to write book reviews on bookwyrm.social. I’m uncertain what this coming year will bring. Ann has some family visits planned. We’d like to do some camping in the north Cascades. I hope to see my mom and visit some places that were special to me and my father. I want to continue our work with Adventure Scientists or other worthy causes. And I want to wish you a hopeful and fulfilling new year. Thanks for keeping in touch. Maddy says Happy New Year too!
My Tho Eveningscape by Daniel Kreadman Kuhn
My father Daniel didn’t quite make it to veteran’s day this year. I’m remembering him today with this poem he wrote as an army officer in Vietnam. My Tho Eveningscape just a trace of a windmoving the damp felt air,this slight keenery of tactilityfeathers over me alone on the rooftopwatching the day whisper into deathwith […]
My father Daniel didn’t quite make it to veteran’s day this year. I’m remembering him today with this poem he wrote as an army officer in Vietnam. My Tho Eveningscape just a trace of a wind moving the damp felt air, this slight keenery of tactility feathers over me alone on the rooftop watching the day whisper into death with a cool moist sibilance. a grey cottony sky trowels its own monotony to the gleam of gold at the horizon; the town under random oblique placards of tin shiny and cold, lies respirating and gentle retiring sub specie aeternitatis like so many another of its kind. the rain left puddles strewn like mirror fragments on the ground the oil color texture of the earth and trees are deep with rich organic redolence breathing into the foundations of my senses. through the streets dogs snoop each heap of curious rubble, gutted windows and walls merge with corrugated half-patched housing clinging for structure onto wealthy unmarked homes. there are no vespers here. only the raw, gay dissonant cacophony of children’s cries and shouts rise like a dismembered symphony to hymn the halflight throng; the sentience of untempered voices fills the town indigent with laugh-now capers trilling down the distant cannon thunder. one young husband before a roofless home strums a guitar singing some half-formed song; nextdoor laundry slashes the air in drooping red and white and purple between a lean-to and one dead tree. lights begin to shine gently from open doorways into alleys cluttered with rusty cans and gnarled pierced roofing; broken lumber provokes a vague geometry over heaps of brick gathered out of rubble, earthenware jars stand along the walls to catch the rain people move among the shadows in the evening’s conversations with scant solace, scant response. a mother walks, nestling her infant in her arms, about the floor of a once commodious living room, no more now after the Tet shells fell; the guitar again stills the night with music softly as fleet birds dash like phantoms against the faint-lit clouds. the evening is lambent with swift sculptured gestures of life forming, twining, converging and disseminating into darkness under the silent silvery rooftops; the trees are black printed silhouettes of labyrinthine imagination indelibly statuesque on the skyline, immaculate beauty in a deathless stasis playing a superb prayer over the ghost of the vast panorama. a soft, gentle rain is falling from the exquisite felt caress of the sky dimming to inky velvet, a new life stirring, an old one passing from strife into rest. the pointed contrast, should one call it cruel, remorseless, or irrelevant? are gods and heroes bastards or benign? the rain is not harsh, the people laugh in the face of death, the red brilliance of the flaming trees kindle a cool furnace against the heavens; in her ruins My Tho is robust and relaxed, feeling the damp felt air and declaiming with the splendor of the palms.
My father Daniel died peacefully this morning, Sunday November 6 2022. He was diagnosed with Parkinson’s Disease in 2008, and survived prostate cancer in 2015. I would like to write more about his life, but today is about giving and receiving love from all who knew him. Thank you.
At last, my lifelong friend and hiking partner Peter Miles Bergman is taking orders for his 263-page art-book and memoir chronicling the two halves of our Pacific Crest Trail hike and the 23 years in between. As a character in the story my opinion may be suspect, but I love this book and the companion […]
At last, my lifelong friend and hiking partner Peter Miles Bergman is taking orders for his 263-page art-book and memoir chronicling the two halves of our Pacific Crest Trail hike and the 23 years in between. As a character in the story my opinion may be suspect, but I love this book and the companion zine and photo-animated flip book. There is so much more to be discovered in these works than just an epic backpack trip and friendship. You can get more details and previews at pact.report.
I won’t lie, my ideas about this year are mucky at best. Maybe that’s a succinct summary of sorts. Perhaps taking a little tour through the muck will demuckify it a little. My 2016 review outlined my practice of using Maslow’s hierarchy of needs for perspective and reflection. Aside from a childish urge to change […]
I won’t lie, my ideas about this year are mucky at best. Maybe that’s a succinct summary of sorts. Perhaps taking a little tour through the muck will demuckify it a little. My 2016 review outlined my practice of using Maslow’s hierarchy of needs for perspective and reflection. Androidmarsexpress, CC BY-SA 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0, via Wikimedia Commons Aside from a childish urge to change the pyramid into a volcano, my turn of thought this year could be pictured as an upside-down version of the triangle representing a hierarchy of values. At the bottom, your needs dictate your values with little room for choice. At the top, you might value almost anything. I’ve tried this year to value the search for what to value while feeling utterly bewildered. To be honest, reaching bewilderment was a victory. The starting point was closer to despair and depression. It’s hard to admit that publicly because, remaining fairly high on Maslow’s hierarchy, to complain feels disrespectful to so many who struggle below. But often I was there regardless, lost and listless, letting my life continue on autopilot with no idea where I’d steer it if I could. It was Yuval Noah Harari’s books that helped me get to bewilderment. I recommend starting with Sapiens, though it was 21 Lessons for the 21st Century that showed me the way from panic and despair to bewilderment. I remain there, but it feels justified and perhaps not endless. The connection of the year’s events to my feelings isn’t clear to me. Strangely, I don’t attribute it to the most obvious new force in my life: my growing role in my father’s care as he reaches the late stages of Parkinson’s disease. While full of challenges, this role is very fulfilling on the “belongingness and love” level. I feel as close to my dad as I ever have. We started the year with him in Phoenix where he and Sarah fought off COVID-19 while Ann and I did what little we could from the trailer in the yard that Sarah got for us. Ironically she did that with a marathon road trip from Phoenix to Kentucky and back, probably picking up the virus along the way. Ann and I tested negative through it all and still have not had COVID-19 to our knowledge. In early December I took over from Sarah after 15 years as Dad’s primary caregiver, and supported his choice to start in-home hospice care in Phoenix. Like many terminal diagnoses, Parkinson’s does not offer a clear timeline. It’s possible that he will improve and cease to qualify for hospice care, or his condition could continue to degrade slowly or quickly. I’m grateful that the hospice program along with a gracious in-home caregiver (thank you Jan) seems to be allowing him to continue living at his home in Phoenix with Sarah according to his wishes. <img loading="lazy" decoding="async" width="768" height="1024" src="https://www.cyberhobo.net/wp-content/uploads/2022/01/21-11-28-17-29-04-4509-768x1024.jpg" alt="" class="wp-image-15453" srcset="https://www.cyberhobo.net/wp-content/uploads/2022/01/21-11-28-17-29-04-4509-768x1024.jpg 768w, https://www.cyberhobo.net/wp-content/uploads/2022/01/21-11-28-17-29-04-4509-500x667.jpg 500w, https://www.cyberhobo.net/wp-content/uploads/2022/01/21-11-28-17-29-04-4509-1152x1536.jpg 1152w, https://www.cyberhobo.net/wp-content/uploads/2022/01/21-11-28-17-29-04-4509-1536x2048.jpg 1536w, https://www.cyberhobo.net/wp-content/uploads/2022/01/21-11-28-17-29-04-4509-scaled.jpg 1920w" sizes="auto, (max-width: 768px) 100vw, 768px" /> Dad playing frisbee with Regal at his home in Phoenix In a development that I hope is over for a while, I spent more time in airports in this pandemic-ridden year than any in recent memory, all of it anxiously hoping my KN95 mask wouldn’t breach. Most of it came over six flights in total for a much-needed visit with my mom in Bay City, Michigan in early October. We embraced mushroom hunting as a great form of pandemic-safe entertainment, and made good use of her new ping-pong table in the garage. She continues to amaze me with her zest and resourcefulness. After I left she hired contractors to enlarge the bathroom on her first floor as a major step in her self-motivated “age in place” program. In my dream life I’d hike or bike to Michigan for visits, but alas air travel will probably remain the only viable method. <img loading="lazy" decoding="async" width="1024" height="769" src="https://www.cyberhobo.net/wp-content/uploads/2022/01/21-09-26-07-05-00-4320-1024x769.jpg" alt="" class="wp-image-15461" srcset="https://www.cyberhobo.net/wp-content/uploads/2022/01/21-09-26-07-05-00-4320-1024x769.jpg 1024w, https://www.cyberhobo.net/wp-content/uploads/2022/01/21-09-26-07-05-00-4320-500x376.jpg 500w, https://www.cyberhobo.net/wp-content/uploads/2022/01/21-09-26-07-05-00-4320-768x577.jpg 768w, https://www.cyberhobo.net/wp-content/uploads/2022/01/21-09-26-07-05-00-4320-1536x1154.jpg 1536w, https://www.cyberhobo.net/wp-content/uploads/2022/01/21-09-26-07-05-00-4320-2048x1539.jpg 2048w" sizes="auto, (max-width: 1024px) 100vw, 1024px" /> Visiting Mom The other airline excursion was a hastily planned flight to Denver with Ann for IS fair 20202021. The original plan was to drive and camp, but a case of food poisoning necessitated a revision. It turned out to be a fun mini-vacation, and our recovering digestive systems kept the meals cheap if nothing else. IS Fair council of elders bizarre portrait Other parts of the year shine brightly in my memory, contrasting the overall mood. Over the summer Ann and I did nine remote water quality data collections for Adventure Scientists’ Wild and Scenic Rivers program. My ski buddy Aaron and I spent a week in May skiing volcanoes in the Cascades, including a summit of Mt. Adams. Me on Mt. Adams I read a lot of really good books. On the fiction side of things I discovered Octavia Butler with Kindred and kept going with Wild Seed and Mind of my Mind, and also Richard Powers with Overstory and Bewildered. Martha Wells’ Murderbot series continued to be a welcome diversion. Nonfiction standouts beyond the Harari books already mentioned were Miracle Country by Kendra Atleework and The Antidote by Oliver Burkeman. For reasons I might discuss in another post, I’m experimenting with Bookwyrm as an alternative to Goodreads for sharing my reviews. There were a lot of other ingredients in the muck. My steady, fulfilling, and flexible job is nothing to take for granted. My marriage proves to resilient and robust time and again. Table tennis and pickeball have become treasured simple pleasures. In retrospect, after writing all this, my year sounds pretty nice. But it was all against the backdrop of pandemic, mounting evidence of ecological collapse, and ever more pernicious forms of techno-political disruption. My efforts to counter these threats feel puny and ineffective. Attempts to envision a better future, laughably pathetic. I’ve always had these undercurrents in my emotional makeup, but this year their power swelled. I’ve also had antidotes for a long time. Recognizing the comic self-importance underlying most of my own and all of humanity’s problems is still a pretty reliable technique. Spending time outdoors still works, though it sometimes feels self-indulgent later. Laughter is priceless when it comes, and should be succumbed to with the entirety of one’s being. Will 2022 bring more antidotes? I’ll toast the possibility with you, cheers.
This has been a year to go down in the annals of blogs, wikis, and feeds for the ages. I’ve fared better than most I think, but my life has changed completely. I’m now sitting at a desk in a bedroom in Phoenix, feeling tired, uncertain, hopeful, determined, scared, cynical, stoic, weak, strong. How, broadly, […]
This has been a year to go down in the annals of blogs, wikis, and feeds for the ages. I’ve fared better than most I think, but my life has changed completely. I’m now sitting at a desk in a bedroom in Phoenix, feeling tired, uncertain, hopeful, determined, scared, cynical, stoic, weak, strong. How, broadly, did I get here? PaCT Draft I have to start with a bit of amazement at my luck in choosing 2019 to finish hiking the Pacific Crest Trail, fulfilling a 23-year pact with my friend Pete. If we had picked the wrecking-ball year of 2020, that dream would likely have been crushed beyond salvation. I began the year determined to write about the trip, which I started to do. Then I lost steam and got excited by Pete’s writing, which I helped to edit. The publication of his book is one thing I’m really looking forward to in 2021. Descending to Needle Rock The snow was slow to come early in the year, so we did some chilly hikes on the still bare dirt then road-tripped to Arizona where Ann was signed up as a volunteer for Saguaro census 2020. I went with her as far as Phoenix where we visited my dad and Sarah. We figured this might be our only Arizona trip for the year. Alkali spring campsite While Ann counted cactus some snow finally fell and I had a few good outings. Aaron scopes a route to Warren lake The weekend of March 14 I decided to start working from home due to COVID-19, and I asked Ann to come home from Arizona. From this point on, we worked from home and only met friends outdoors. Quarantine smiles Thus began the pandemic cycle: work, exercise, cook, sleep, repeat. April. May. The isolation seemed to be working. Daily new cases in Washoe county exceeded 50 a couple of times but then fell again afterward. We moved the cycle to Nampa, Idaho for a visit to Ann’s parents after we each isolated ourselves as much as possible for the two weeks prior. The world felt bigger and wilder when we traveled. The return trip involved a narrow escape from miles of muddy road in the Santa Rosa range after a June snowstorm. While we were gone Reno struggled to differentiate protests and riots in the wake of the police killing of George Floyd, and the 7-day average of new COVID-19 cases was over 60 and rising. June snowstorm For my 48th birthday in July Ann supported me for a really grand overnight backpack around the headwaters of the Little Walker river. Camp above Anna lake Ann and I have always been close, but spending nearly every waking and sleeping hour together forced us to address conflicts we might have avoided otherwise. In general this strengthened our relationship, but by August we also saw some upsides to a little time apart. I made a solo road trip to Colorado for two weeks to visit my Dad in his other home there. The pandemic cycle continued regardless of location, but the road trips allowed for some welcome outdoor outings. Wheeler summit Back in Reno new cases of COVID-19 seem to to have peaked around 100 per day and now looked to be falling. Work became more demanding, and I canceled a planned to trip to visit my mom in Michigan. Smoke from wildfires seemed to pour in from all directions, adding poor air quality to all the other factors keeping us indoors. Finding smoke-free outdoor locations felt like a survival game. In October COVID-19 cases started rising again, with a vengeance. Smoky sky The last week of October we got a call from my dad and Sarah back in Phoenix. Sarah needed to go back to Colorado, and Dad didn’t want to go. His Parkinson’s disease symptoms had worsened. We agreed to be in Phoenix in a week, and we’ve been here since then. Dad’s condition has improved and Sarah has returned, but it still feels like we’ve got a family’s worth of challenges to face. Dad is considering a surgical implant to administer his medication, which he needs continuously. We’re finding ways to live and plan a future, in a time when the future seems more opaque than ever. The Sonoran desert provides some winter solace while we face it together. Coronavirus continues to rage in the US and especially Arizona, with a new more contagious variant from the UK showing up in Colorado. Hospitals in Phoenix are turning ambulances away. 2021, here we come. Numbers I track some statistics from year to year, but this year it’s clearer than ever to me that these numbers don’t really tell the story. I’ve taken refuge in hiking and running, making for an almost normal-looking year in those terms. Hours Tracked (by GPS): 375.5699999999997 <img decoding="async" class="tally_graph" src="https://chart.apis.google.com/chart?chs=880x300&cht=bvs&chbh=a&chd=t%3A12.200000000000001%2C9%2C6.050000000000001%2C9.42%2C5.81%2C5.510000000000001%2C7.1000000000000005%2C11.02%2C7.519999999999999%2C10.350000000000001%2C6%2C5.27%2C9.040000000000001%2C7.780000000000001%2C10.52%2C10.83%2C12.64%2C10.16%2C10.27%2C8.71%2C8.78%2C4.86%2C4.9399999999999995%2C17.029999999999998%2C7.21%2C21.880000000000003%2C5.54%2C4.640000000000001%2C6.27%2C3.42%2C7.2%2C1.06%2C10.620000000000001%2C1.8900000000000001%2C6.23%2C6.09%2C5.570000000000001%2C7.42%2C3.67%2C5.96%2C5.9399999999999995%2C4.71%2C3.43%2C5.19%2C2.8900000000000006%2C1.44%2C3.4299999999999997%2C3.98%2C9.16%2C3.81%2C7.8&chds=1.06%2C21.880000000000003&chxt=y%2Cx%2Cx&chxl=1%3A%7CJan%7C+%7C+%7CFeb%7C+%7C+%7C+%7CMar%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7CApr%7C+%7C+%7C+%7CMay%7C+%7C+%7C+%7CJun%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7CJul%7C+%7C+%7C+%7CAug%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7CSep%7C+%7C+%7C+%7COct%7C+%7C+%7C+%7CNov%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7CDec%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C2%3A%7C2020%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+&chxr=0%2C1.06%2C21.880000000000003" alt="Hours Tracked" /> Outdoor Nights: 37|4 <img decoding="async" class="tally_graph" src="https://chart.apis.google.com/chart?chs=880x300&cht=bvs&chco=dddd33%2Caaaa11&chdl=Off+Grid+in+the+Camper%7CTent&chdlp=b&chbh=a&chd=t%3A0%2C1%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C2%2C0%2C7%2C7%2C2%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C8%2C0%2C2%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C2%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C6%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%7C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C2%2C0%2C2%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0&chds=0%2C8&chxt=y%2Cx%2Cx&chxl=1%3A%7CJan%7C+%7C+%7CFeb%7C+%7C+%7C+%7CMar%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7CApr%7C+%7C+%7C+%7CMay%7C+%7C+%7C+%7CJun%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7CJul%7C+%7C+%7C+%7CAug%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7CSep%7C+%7C+%7C+%7COct%7C+%7C+%7C+%7CNov%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7CDec%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C2%3A%7C2020%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+&chxr=0%2C0%2C8" alt="off_grid_nights,outdoor_nights" /> Miles on Foot: 1046.5100000000002 <img decoding="async" class="tally_graph" src="https://chart.apis.google.com/chart?chs=880x300&cht=bvs&chbh=a&chd=t%3A20.35%2C13.83%2C7.11%2C7.09%2C14.41%2C6.62%2C24.249999999999996%2C22.61%2C8.05%2C15.899999999999999%2C20.3%2C20.46%2C29.07%2C30.749999999999993%2C31.630000000000003%2C31.220000000000002%2C37.94%2C29.79%2C33.11%2C21.749999999999996%2C35.620000000000005%2C20.459999999999997%2C22.33%2C33.519999999999996%2C15.26%2C36.01%2C22.16%2C19.7%2C18.41%2C16.62%2C21.360000000000003%2C4.7299999999999995%2C36.1%2C4.42%2C29.37%2C14.02%2C21.169999999999998%2C22.330000000000002%2C18.23%2C25.15%2C19.05%2C15.19%2C13.79%2C19.679999999999996%2C14.350000000000001%2C3.31%2C7%2C11.100000000000001%2C23.14%2C20.69%2C14.68&chds=3.31%2C37.94&chxt=y%2Cx%2Cx&chxl=1%3A%7CJan%7C+%7C+%7CFeb%7C+%7C+%7C+%7CMar%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7CApr%7C+%7C+%7C+%7CMay%7C+%7C+%7C+%7CJun%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7CJul%7C+%7C+%7C+%7CAug%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7CSep%7C+%7C+%7C+%7COct%7C+%7C+%7C+%7CNov%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7CDec%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C2%3A%7C2020%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+&chxr=0%2C3.31%2C37.94" alt="miles_hiked" /> Elevation Gain on Foot (ft): 166120 <img decoding="async" class="tally_graph" src="https://chart.apis.google.com/chart?chs=880x300&cht=bvs&chbh=a&chd=t%3A5667%2C3587%2C1908%2C1996%2C3016%2C803%2C3633%2C7342%2C3392%2C3676%2C2636%2C798%2C4346%2C3965%2C4195%2C6674%2C5919%2C4708%2C4472%2C2743%2C1213%2C2527%2C2915%2C9329%2C3038%2C10704%2C3720%2C1906%2C5315%2C2839%2C6026%2C65%2C4425%2C95%2C4714%2C2488%2C1813%2C4090%2C2698%2C3040%2C1654%2C978%2C1192%2C1431%2C790%2C68%2C435%2C825%2C4125%2C1306%2C2282&chds=65%2C10704&chxt=y%2Cx%2Cx&chxl=1%3A%7CJan%7C+%7C+%7CFeb%7C+%7C+%7C+%7CMar%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7CApr%7C+%7C+%7C+%7CMay%7C+%7C+%7C+%7CJun%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7CJul%7C+%7C+%7C+%7CAug%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7CSep%7C+%7C+%7C+%7COct%7C+%7C+%7C+%7CNov%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7CDec%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C2%3A%7C2020%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+&chxr=0%2C65%2C10704" alt="feet_elevation_gain" /> Ski Tours: 8 <img decoding="async" class="tally_graph" src="https://chart.apis.google.com/chart?chs=880x300&cht=bvs&chbh=a&chd=t%3A2%2C1%2C0%2C0%2C1%2C0%2C1%2C2%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0&chds=0%2C2&chxt=y%2Cx%2Cx&chxl=1%3A%7CJan%7C+%7C+%7CFeb%7C+%7C+%7C+%7CMar%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7CApr%7C+%7C+%7C+%7CMay%7C+%7C+%7C+%7CJun%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7CJul%7C+%7C+%7C+%7CAug%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7CSep%7C+%7C+%7C+%7COct%7C+%7C+%7C+%7CNov%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7CDec%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C2%3A%7C2020%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+&chxr=0%2C0%2C2" alt="ski_tour" /> Books Read: 14 <img decoding="async" class="tally_graph" src="https://chart.apis.google.com/chart?chs=880x300&cht=bvs&chbh=a&chd=t%3A0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C3%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C2%2C0%2C1%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1%2C0%2C1%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1%2C0%2C0%2C1%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C0&chds=0%2C3&chxt=y%2Cx%2Cx&chxl=1%3A%7CJan%7C+%7C+%7CFeb%7C+%7C+%7C+%7CMar%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7CApr%7C+%7C+%7C+%7CMay%7C+%7C+%7C+%7CJun%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7CJul%7C+%7C+%7C+%7CAug%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7CSep%7C+%7C+%7C+%7COct%7C+%7C+%7C+%7CNov%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7CDec%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C2%3A%7C2020%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+&chxr=0%2C0%2C3" alt="Books Read" /> Years gone by: <img decoding="async" class="tally_graph" src="https://chart.apis.google.com/chart?chs=880x300&cht=bvs&chtt=Hours+Tracked+%28by+GPS%29&chbh=a&chm=N%2C000000%2C0%2C-1%2C11&chd=t%3A192.5546999999999%2C230.5102855399999%2C382.0399999999999%2C350.6199999999999%2C326.48000000000025%2C300.5799999999998%2C392.7999999999993%2C375.5699999999997&chds=172%2C392.7999999999993&chxt=y%2Cx&chxl=1%3A%7C2013%7C2014%7C2015%7C2016%7C2017%7C2018%7C2019%7C2020&chxr=0%2C172%2C392.7999999999993" alt="Hours Tracked" /> <img decoding="async" class="tally_graph" src="https://chart.apis.google.com/chart?chs=880x300&cht=bvs&chtt=Outdoor+Nights&chco=dddd33%2Caaaa11&chdl=Off+Grid+in+the+Camper%7CTent&chdlp=b&chbh=a&chm=N%2C000000%2C-1%2C%2C11&chd=t%3A25%2C51%2C22%2C75%2C22%2C20%2C23%2C2%2C0%2C73%2C48.5%2C57%2C47%2C37%7C25%2C6%2C39%2C13%2C6%2C27%2C8%2C25%2C27%2C3%2C3%2C6%2C67%2C4&chds=0%2C114&chxt=y%2Cx%2Cx&chxl=1%3A%7CJan%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C+%7C2%3A%7C2007%7C2008%7C2009%7C2010%7C2011%7C2012%7C2013%7C2014%7C2015%7C2016%7C2017%7C2018%7C2019%7C2020&chxr=0%2C0%2C114" alt="off_grid_nights,outdoor_nights" /> <img decoding="async" class="tally_graph" src="https://chart.apis.google.com/chart?chs=880x300&cht=bvs&chtt=Miles+on+Foot&chbh=a&chm=N%2C000000%2C0%2C-1%2C11&chd=t%3A258.87%2C532.7800000000001%2C1160.2099999999996%2C911%2C731.4999999999998%2C929.4100000000004%2C736.5%2C768.630095913067%2C1143.3899999999999%2C1184.3999999999994%2C938.5899999999995%2C807.3800000000001%2C1557.45%2C1046.5100000000002&chds=129%2C1557.45&chxt=y%2Cx&chxl=1%3A%7C2007%7C2008%7C2009%7C2010%7C2011%7C2012%7C2013%7C2014%7C2015%7C2016%7C2017%7C2018%7C2019%7C2020&chxr=0%2C129%2C1557.45" alt="miles_hiked" /> <img decoding="async" class="tally_graph" src="https://chart.apis.google.com/chart?chs=880x300&cht=bvs&chtt=Elevation+Gain+on+Foot+%28ft%29&chbh=a&chm=N%2C000000%2C0%2C-1%2C11&chd=t%3A54295%2C109166%2C195844%2C189437%2C170885%2C157183%2C158071%2C147417.65354372%2C214856%2C196615%2C206202%2C199348%2C349598%2C166120&chds=24764%2C349598&chxt=y%2Cx&chxl=1%3A%7C2007%7C2008%7C2009%7C2010%7C2011%7C2012%7C2013%7C2014%7C2015%7C2016%7C2017%7C2018%7C2019%7C2020&chxr=0%2C24764%2C349598" alt="feet_elevation_gain" /> <img decoding="async" class="tally_graph" src="https://chart.apis.google.com/chart?chs=880x300&cht=bvs&chtt=Miles+by+Bike&chbh=a&chm=N%2C000000%2C0%2C-1%2C11&chd=t%3A289.65%2C262.08%2C245.69000000000003%2C170.8%2C52.8%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C9.16%2C198.5%2C103.17%2C605.5099999999996%2C164.31999999999994&chds=0%2C605.5099999999996&chxt=y%2Cx&chxl=1%3A%7C2008%7C2009%7C2010%7C2011%7C2012%7C2013%7C2014%7C2015%7C2016%7C2017%7C2018%7C2019%7C2020&chxr=0%2C0%2C605.5099999999996" alt="miles_biked" /> <img decoding="async" class="tally_graph" src="https://chart.apis.google.com/chart?chs=880x300&cht=bvs&chtt=Bike+Elevation+Gain+%28ft%29&chbh=a&chm=N%2C000000%2C0%2C-1%2C11&chd=t%3A9866%2C6095%2C15804%2C10082%2C2396%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C60%2C11437%2C10152%2C14699%2C4264&chds=0%2C15804&chxt=y%2Cx&chxl=1%3A%7C2008%7C2009%7C2010%7C2011%7C2012%7C2013%7C2014%7C2015%7C2016%7C2017%7C2018%7C2019%7C2020&chxr=0%2C0%2C15804" alt="Bike Elevation Gain (ft)" />
I made my voting plan tonight. Well, actually Ann did, but I did some of the thinking part! We can’t help each other too much, or too soon, and the time to do it is now. Online Tools There are a plethora of websites out there purporting to help us through the voting process. I’m […]
I made my voting plan tonight. Well, actually Ann did, but I did some of the thinking part! We can’t help each other too much, or too soon, and the time to do it is now. Online Tools There are a plethora of websites out there purporting to help us through the voting process. I’m partial to the Outdoor State, my Mom to IWillVote.com, and there are countless others. But hold on. Making a plan to vote is hugely important, but so is our privacy. How do we know what these sites will do with our personal information? I’m sure most of them are earnest and honest, but there’s just no easy way to know, and I want to break the habit of typing my details into every website that catches my fancy. Ann did it a better way, which I endorse. Search and Verify The website you want is your county or state election official site. Search results can turn up fakes, hopefully rarely, but with a little discrimination you can get some quick assurances. Here’s my search: <img loading="lazy" decoding="async" width="935" height="1024" src="https://www.cyberhobo.net/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/Screen-Shot-2020-09-16-at-8.21.06-PM-935x1024.png" alt="" class="wp-image-14980" srcset="https://www.cyberhobo.net/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/Screen-Shot-2020-09-16-at-8.21.06-PM-935x1024.png 935w, https://www.cyberhobo.net/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/Screen-Shot-2020-09-16-at-8.21.06-PM-500x547.png 500w, https://www.cyberhobo.net/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/Screen-Shot-2020-09-16-at-8.21.06-PM.png 1350w" sizes="auto, (max-width: 935px) 100vw, 935px" /> The top two results are indeed the site I’m looking for, but I also clicked around the next two websites for local media outlets that I recognize. They tend to link to the secretary of state voting site, but I found links to the county site too. There are a few important points here: I got some kind of outside validation that I found the real site I was looking for. There are two real sites that will both work: one for the state and one for the county. Use the one that’s easiest to understand. I did not just click on a link from my social media feed and bare my soul. Now dish up your data The official sites may have fewer bells and whistles, but I’m comfortable using them to check my voter registration data and guide me through the next steps. I’m planning a trip and want an absentee ballot, which in Nevada is different than the mail-in ballot I would get by default. I need to request an absentee ballot from my county voter registrar using a form that I can mail or e-mail. (The state and county actually each have their own version of this form, but both include the same sending instructions.) I’ll try the email method, but I’m glad to have time to fix anything that might go wrong. Share your plan Now that I’ve told you about my plan, I feel more confident that I will follow through and not let apocalyptic smoke, pestilence, laziness, or distraction stand in my way. Others helped spur me to action, and we can all help inspire and guide each other.